


Christmas in Norway

by JustAnotherUnderstudy



Series: This Should Totally Be A Thing [4]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Better Than Canon, Christmas, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Not Canon Compliant, Older Woman/Younger Man, Tanner ships it, There's a better than canon tag, i love it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-03 09:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8707336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherUnderstudy/pseuds/JustAnotherUnderstudy
Summary: Generally, James prefers to be on assignment over Christmas. M knows this and has always made sure to send him away. Unfortunately, Olivia is no longer M...she's no longer a lot of things.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A "continuation" of "Thanksgiving in America." Goes back to the beginning of James' and Olivia's life on the run.

His back was cold. Really cold. It's what woke him up when the non-existent dawn couldn't. If his back was cold that could only mean one thing.

James reached behind him in the small bed and cursed when he found it vacant.

Grumbling to himself he crawled out of the bed and wrapped one of the wool blankets around himself then padded out to the front room.

The safe house had only two rooms so the "front room" was the kitchen/dining/living room combined. And in the living part of that room, sitting in front of the lit fireplace, was M.

James glanced at the clock on the wall. It showed 0430 hours.

"What the hell are you doing?"

His voice was rough from sleep but he didn't mind how harsh he sounded. It was too damned early after he'd spent the previous day setting up security around the place and doing brief reconnaissance of the area in far below freezing temperatures.

Damn Norway.

He realized M still hadn't answered him so he thought she might have fallen asleep there. He walked around the chairs they had set up in front of the fireplace and saw that she was indeed awake and staring vacantly into the fire.

"It's 4:30 in the god forsaken morning, M. What are you doing out here? It's fucking freezing in the bed."

Even though his voice was no longer rough it was still harsh.

A month since fleeing England and going on the run to keep M safe from Raoul Silva and Bond was beginning to doubt the intelligence of this idea. Or maybe he was just tired of fighting with her. She was so damned stubborn.

"I didn't feel like sleeping."

To prove his point.

James rolled his eyes.

"There is no fucking heat in the bedroom. Are you trying to freeze me to death?"

Still staring into the fire, M simply shook her head in response.

"Is that all you're going to do? Sit there and stare at the bloody fire?"

He was more than agitated. A week ago they'd had too close a call and had fled Denmark on foot in the middle of the night until James could find a truck to hot wire and get them to the next town and message Tanner for help out of the country. She'd been silent on the walk, but as soon as they'd been in the truck, she'd started up again.

It seemed unless one or both were asleep they could do nothing but grouse at each other. That was what had given him the idea on the drive into Norway to dye his hair grey and to start traveling as an old married couple. They could now bicker, and M seemed hell-bent on bickering about everything, and no one would give them a second glance.

"James."

There was a weariness in her voice that grabbed his attention.

"It's Christmas Day."

He stared at her for a moment before responding.

"What difference does that make?"

He didn't want to give up the fight. And he didn't want to admit why.

But she refused to respond. She just continued to stare at the fire. 

"Fine. I'll put the kettle on."

He groused as he walked over to the kitchen area and rinsed the kettle before filling it and putting it atop the small range and lighting the burner beneath it. He walked back over to the fire and sat in the chair next to M.

He was angry. It was Christmas. He hated Christmas. Sure, it was stereo-typical of him, orphaned child, broken man, of course he was supposed to hate all so-called "family" holidays. Usually M sent him away. He'd never even had to ask.

_"I hope you don't have any plans for the holiday."_

_M stared at him across her desk._

_"Never do."_

_He knew what she was saying. She had an assignment that would last through, probably until the new year. He relished the idea that he would be so busy he'd not have to even consider the holiday._

That had been his first Christmas as a 00. After that, M never asked, but she always made sure he was busy this time of year. He considered it her Christmas present to him.

The kettle began to whistle and James walked back to the kitchen to make their tea. At least tea was something they could agree on. She never liked any of the food he procured, never wanted to listen to the music he wanted to listen to. James forced himself to stop thinking about that. If she wanted a day without arguing he'd have to keep himself as silent as she was keeping herself.

He returned to the fire with the tea and set hers next to her on the small table between the chairs. He was agitated again by the fact that she didn't even acknowledge the tea. She did usually say "thanks" but today she didn't move, didn't speak. She just continued to stare into the fire. James seethed internally. Though he really couldn't say what it was that was annoying him. She was silent. He should be happy. He'd told her he was tired of having to argue with her all the time.

James huffed out a breath loudly and glanced at M out of the corner of his eye. His unspoken complaint went unacknowledged. He turned his head to look closer at her. Her face was as impassive as ever, she gazed at the fire no differently than if she was staring at a blank wall. Though he could see the flames reflected in her eyes, they in turn did not seem to notice what they were looking at. He finally realized she seemed to be miles away, lost in some sort of memory or thought. As he watched, she'd occasionally quirk up the corners of her mouth. Her eyes would blink when she did, then she would return to her staring. He wondered what she was thinking about. It seemed pleasant enough.

He finally tired of sitting and rose and dressed to go out. If they were just going to be silent all day, he'd leave her to her thoughts. He told her was leaving to walk into town just to hopefully get some sort of rise from her about how he was an idiot for walking out in sub-freezing temperatures. But she only nodded slightly.

He set the alarm and made sure it was accurately connected to his phone. He was always nervous to leave her but he was beginning to get the feeling that she needed her space, and more than just him hiding out in the freezing bedroom all day. They'd been together non-stop for over a month. There had been times he'd honestly feared allowing her to go into the loo by herself.

This time of year it was dark all day this far north. Still, James was alert to his surroundings. It was barely 5.30 and the road from their small house ("shack" M had called it) to the town was deserted. Still, he kept to the treeline and listened for any movement or any cars. He wondered if M thought he was serious about walking into town. He then began to wonder what M was even thinking about.

If she was smiling, she must have been thinking about her family. He had never seen her at the holidays, he wondered if she looked more relaxed, even at the office. Did she put up a small tree in her office? Did she have her nails painted in a more festive color? Did her children come to visit and bring the grandchildren? Did her husband put up mistletoe around the house and steal kisses from her? Did she have 'normal' outside her work?

By the time James saw the town ahead of him he realized there wouldn't be a store open, even later in the day, he supposed. He walked toward the main street where there were shops they'd stopped at for food after they'd found the house.

In the window of a hardware store there was a Christmas display complete with a small, decorated tree. James easily broke into the shop without damaging even the lock on the door. He picked up the tree then pulled 1500kr out of his wallet and left it in the spot where the tree had been.

When he arrived back at the house, he was only mildly surprised to find that M had not moved. She had, at some point, drank down her tea, but that was the only evidence that she wasn't some sort of stone statue.

He set the tree on the small dining table.

"Have you eaten? I'll make some breakfast if you like."

She shook her head.

"I'm not hungry."

James clenched his jaw against the emotions her quiet voice drew from him. He didn't know what was wrong with her but he was already tired of it.

"Fine."

He made sure his voice conveyed exactly how "un-fine" he felt. Then he went into the kitchen to start some hot cereal in the stove. They had some oats and some cream of wheat. He opted for the latter. He ignored her as he cooked. If she wanted to be a bitch today at least this version was a silent version.

When he was finished he walked over to the fire and put another log on before he sat down in the chair to eat and warm himelf. He glanced over at her to see if she'd even noticed and narrowed his eyes at the site of her. If he didn't know better he'd say her eyes were puffy and red, as if she'd been crying. He shook the thought immediately. M never cried. She was impervious to pain, particularly emotional pain.

The fleeting thought that she'd always sent him away at Christmas even though they'd had only that one brief conversation years ago ran through his mind. He reminded himself that her file said she'd been an orphan as well. A war orphan. Afterwards she'd been bumped around to relative after relative until she was old enough to be sent away to school. As far as he'd been able to find out, and yes, damn it, he'd looked into it, she'd spent school holidays at school. She'd never had someone like Oberhauser who took her in. Her only family was her husband's family, and her two children.

James ate his cereal and tried not to find any pity for her. Back when he'd hacked her file he'd only felt jealousy. She had the family he'd always wanted, and he had nothing. It was just one more reason to be angry with her. And he was often angry with her back then.

He finished his cereal and decided to venture conversation with M again to see if she was hungry yet.

"M."

She visibly flinched, as if he'd hit her.

"What?"

"Please, don't call me that."

He stared at her a moment. Not call her M? What the bloody hell was he supposed to call her? She'd told him if he said her real name...

"I'm no longer M."

He felt a sharp reply on the tip of his tongue but bit it back. He stared hard at her. There was more to this, more than the title.

"Did Tanner tell you something?"

If he'd told M but not him that she'd been officially replaced it would have been strange.

She shook her head.

"No, but it's inevitable. I've been declared dead and there must be an M."

James hadn't given it a whole lot of thought. He too knew it was coming, but he'd been busy trying to do his job.

He was about to make a smart remark about that very fact when she shifted in her seat slightly and James felt an odd shift in her emotions. He was immediately uncomfortable with the intensity so he rose from the chair to take his bowl to the kitchen and wash the dishes. He chanced a sideways glance at her as he walked away and saw a tear roll down her cheek.

Damn it. What the hell was he supposed to do now? 

He started the water in the sink, thankful there was hot running water in the shack. He rinsed and washed the dishes trying to figure out how to deal with M now that she had somehow overnight grown so damned melancholy. He was no good with emotion. A crying woman could be a woman trying to manipulate him. 

'OK,' he admitted to himself. 'This is M, she would hardly try to manipulate you with tears. She'd be more likely to slip poison in your drink and threaten you in exchange for the antidote.'

Then what was this? Aren't normal people supposed to be happy at Christmas. Wasn't he the one everyone always called "Grinch?" Of course, M was the one they always called "Ice Queen." 

He finished the dishes and put them away. Then steeled his resolve to go and talk with M.

When he sat down he saw she was no longer crying. That was a relief.

"What's all this about?"

He expected no answer, and that's exactly what he got. He sat and stared at the flames unsure how to proceed. Maybe she just needed some rest. He could encourage her to go back to bed. He could keep her warm.

No. His desire to do just that was why they slept back to back. He closed his eyes at the thought of just how little that helped him. Then he laughed in his head at his predicament. She hadn't always turned him on, he hadn't always found her attractive. But as he'd worked with her over the years she'd earned his respect and trust and at some point he'd fallen in love with her. 

She'd still been married, not that it changed things when her husband died. He knew it was inappropriate. She'd worked too hard to get where she was and he wouldn't ask her to throw that away. But he'd thought they'd grown closer, thought she'd trusted him. It's why her words "take the bloody shot" had hurt him more than the bullet or the fall. He'd thought it was personal. Maybe he still did. Maybe that's why they fought. Maybe she knew he was more than a little angry.

_"Tell me what word you think of when I say...M."_

_"Bitch."_

She'd heard.

_"I'm not M anymore."_

"What should I call you?"

James broke the silence and looked at her.

She shrugged indifferently.

"Well, I have to call you something."

He waited.

"I could call you 'darling' since we're supposed to be married."

She was quiet for a moment.

"No one has called me that for some time."

There was no melancholy in her tone. James was unsure what to make of it. 

"But I'm no one's darling."

She was quiet but James sensed there was more so he waited in silence. He tried to read her but her face was blank, except for her eyes, which were still red and slightly puffy from crying earlier.

In the silence James began to feel fear creep in. He'd never seen her show fear. She'd always been strong. She looked...no, she wouldn't...would she? He argued with himself until he could admit that she appeared to have given up.

If she had, he wasn't quite sure what to do. He'd never actually been the encouraging type. Not that she was, at least not directly.

He watched her take a deep breath as if she needed that for courage.

"I'm no one's wife."

Her voice was barely a whisper.

James waited, his throat tight in anticipation of her next words.

"I'm no one's mother."

He wanted desperately to stop her from saying the next words because now he understood.

"I'm no one's grandmother."

Her voice quivered slightly and she turned her head away from his gaze.

It was another several minutes before she spoke again.

"We should have stayed at Skyfall and fought."

James felt his jaw clench in anger.

"No!"

She knew as well as he did now that it would have been foolish. Tanner had told them they both would have perished there. Silva had too much fire power and they wouldn't have been prepared.

"We would have died and you know it."

He was angry now and he stood and began to pace.

"How could you even say such a thing?"

She didn't look up at him.

"I didn't trust you enough."

James was taken aback at her reply.

"What are you talking about?"

She finally looked up at him.

"I went with you and didn't have anyone intervene because you needed me to trust you."

"What the hell does trust have to do with this?"

"Everything, James. Trust is the reason we are always at each other. You think I don't trust you and you keep doing stupid things to prove that you are worthy of my trust."

Her voice was quiet and calm in direct contrast to his loud and angry one.

"I don't know what the bloody hell you are talking about."

"Don't you, James? Isn't that why you're here? We have no idea how long this situation will last and you are dead set against asking anyone but Tanner for help. You'll burn yourself out."

"Who else am I supposed to have guard you?"

She only shrugged and looked away. Her actions infuriated him.

"What? Should I have Tanner come along then?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Bond. Tanner is no field agent. He's untrained for this sort of situation."

"Then what the bloody hell do you want me to do?"

"I want you to think for once. Consider the consequences of your actions. For God's sake, you've been a double 0 for six years. That's nearly a record. I have no idea how the hell you've lived this long. It certainly isn't because you think before you act."

"Have I failed in anything you asked?"

The question was out of his mouth before he thought.

"No. Never."

James looked at her in surprise.

"I'm sure that's not true, ma'am."

"It is, James. You have done far more than should be expected from anyone, even a double 0."

Her words and the softness of her voice scared him. They sounded final, as if this would be one of their last conversations.

He ignored it and turned back to the matter at hand.

"What would you like me to call you, ma'am?"

She looked up at him, her look was almost sympathetic.

"It doesn't matter. In the morning I'll call Tanner and tell him I'm sending you home."

Her words dredged up a feeling of betrayal no different than when she'd called him in Venice to tell him the money was missing and he'd realized Vesper had taken it.

"And whom will you request to replace me?"

If someone replaced him, he was certain he'd never see her again. They'd have to keep him in the dark because Silva would be watching him once he returned. The idea that he would have to work without her hurt and he couldn't exactly lie about why anymore.

"No one."

It was whispered but James felt the words like a punch in the gut and he audibly gasped.

"You can't be serious?"

He kept his voice quiet, now unsure how to proceed. She admitted she was giving up. James never thought he'd see the day.

She nodded.

"This safe house is a mile away from the town. When the time comes, no one will be nearby to be caught in the crossfire."

She was still staring at the fire.

"I won't let you do this. I won't let you be killed by that man, or anyone else."

"James, it's no longer your concern. You're a good agent. England needs you. And I have always hoped that one day you will sit in M's chair."

James sat back down in his chair, dumbfounded.

He looked back up at her.

"You believe I could be M one day?"

She nodded and smiled at him.

He only shook his head.

"What? Are you afraid you can't handle agents such as yourself?"

There was a laugh in her voice that was completely incongruous with the situation.

"You will be a good M. But if you don't mind, I will give you one very important piece of advice. Find someone, someone you can go home to, someone who will make you feel human again when you leave the office. It makes the job easier."

Her voiced cracked and she turned back to the fire.

He just stared at her. She was giving up. She was going to let Silva find her and do whatever the hell he wanted to her. Or maybe she was going to end it first. Maybe once James was gone, she was going to poison herself, or whatever else she might have come up with.

He wanted to make another argument against his departure but when the words came into his mind, he finally understood what she was saying. It was more than just Silva. She had no one at home to make her feel human. James knew exactly what that was like.

They were silent for a long while before James stood and added another log to the fire. Then he finally spoke as he stoked the flames.

"I think I'll call you Live."

"If you must. Liv it is."

"No, not from your name. L-I-V-E. Live."

She shook her head.

"You can't give up now. I know you don't think there's anything left to live for, I understand that. I've lost everything."

"You're young. I'm nearly 80."

"I hope to be doing as fine as you at 80."

He paused and waited for a response, but she just stared into the fire. So he tried a different tact.

"Of course, I don't think I'll carry off those short skirts and plunging necklines as well as you."

She gave him a sharp look to which he only replied with a smirk.

Her lips began to shake as she fought to keep the smile off her face. He allowed himself a grin which she mirrored and then rolled her eyes and shook her head at him.

"James, I'm being serious."

"As am I. Well, except for the part about the skirts and the plunging necklines, I do think I'll still look ravishing in them."

"James."

"Olivia."

She gave him a sharp look.

"Well? Are you going to follow through with your original threat? Will you have me killed? Because that's the only way I'm leaving."

"James, don't be so dramatic. You've proven your trustworthiness"

"This has nothing to do with whether I think you trust me or not. I've been stupid to think that you don't. You've gone out of your way for me from the beginning of my days as a double 0. Even after I disappeared and pretended to be dead, you brought me back in because you trusted me to do my job."

She looked back at the fire and he sighed.

"Just let me do my job."

"You're going to get bored."

"I'll pick a fight with you when I do, OK?"

She leaned her head back on the chair and looked up at the ceiling.

She took a breath to speak again, but James beat her to it.

"You've had this planned from the beginning. This is exactly what you wanted. We are in the exact situation you wanted."

"Not from the beginning."

"When? When we were overlooking Skyfall? When we were driving to Scotland? When?"

"I started to plan when we were driving. I knew that if I didn't like what you'd come up with, I'd suggest it strongly. I had hoped that Tanner and his team would be able to deal with Silva, but if he couldn't I'd give it a short while before I sent you home."

"So you picked Christmas?"

"I knew you wouldn't want to be home for Christmas so I kept you until now."

James felt the beginning of a fight seep out of him with a slow breath. She _had_ known. Her sending him away each year _was_ intentional.

"James, I've always trusted you. I've always known you would do the job I wanted, whether you knew you were acting on my orders or not."

She was looking at him again. James was momentarily mesmerized by the way the fire reflected in her eyes and cast shadows across her face.

"Then trust me to make sure you are safe, ma'am. I will do my duty as I always do, and they truly will have to carry me off in a body bag before I stop."

She held his gaze for several heartbeats before she nodded. James smiled.

"Let me get you some tea."

She smiled up at him as he rose.

"Yes, that would be nice."

"And some biscuits. You haven't eaten all day."

"Biscuits?"

"It's Christmas. I'd feed you candy but I'm afraid I haven't any."

She chuckled and Bond breathed a sigh of relief.

He put the water on then picked up the Christmas tree and carried it over to the corner where she could see it.

"Do I want to know where on earth you found an already decorated tree?"

"Probably not."

He made the tea and sat down with her again. He reached for her hand and held it to get her attention.

"I'll get you home to them eventually."

She smiled a watery smile at him.

"Thank you, James. I know you will."

James couldn't help feel a bit smug. The only woman whose opinion had ever mattered to him had complete confidence in him. As far as Christmas gifts went, this was indeed the best he'd ever received.

\----

One year later

Olivia relaxed against James as he adjusted himself behind her, his bare chest to her bare back, his arm around her middle, pulling her against him. She sighed contentedly as they stared into the fire.

"Happy Christmas, James."

"Happy Christmas, Liv."

He kissed her shoulder gently, none of the earlier driving passion behind it. She wouldn't have minded, but it was nice just to be held.

She thought over the year as she gazed into the flames, the twinkle of Christmas tree lights in the corner of her eye.

It was hard to believe that a year ago she had truly given up and had wanted to send James home. In truth, she didn't want to watch him die, nor did she want him to watch her do the same. Neither of them would have been the same again. She'd lost him once, and he had lost too many in his life. James didn't deserve to be hurt like that again. He deserved to have happiness and someone who loved him completely. She'd had no idea he was in love with her already. 

She smiled and lifted his hand to her lips.

"This has been a wonderful Christmas, James. I think I shall ask for the same next year."

He chuckled and pressed his lips to the back of her neck. She shuddered at the pleasure that shot down her spine at his act.

"This time next year I think we might have a house full of guests. I'm not sure they'd appreciate just how lively you are during lovemaking."

She laughed and swatted his hand playfully.

"Do you think they'll be able to accept our relationship?"

"James, I think they will. They know what it looks like when a man is in love with a woman. Their father was very good to me. They'll know you are just as much in love with me."

"I would argue more, but I tried not to get to know the man."

"Afraid?"

"Yes, he might have seen through me."

"You were not already in love with me then."

"It was on the horizon. If I had met him he would have seen it. I couldn't acknowledge it myself until after he'd died."

She laughed and he pulled back to roll her over and kiss her lips.

"I think I should like one more Christmas gift."

"You would? You are insatiable, James."

"Not that! My but you have a one track mind."

He kissed her across her collar bone, then sucked at her neck until she knew he'd left a mark.

"Who has the one track mind?"

"I can't help myself, Liv, you are so damn beautiful and alluring."

"Alright, but I want to know what this other thing is you want for Christmas."

"I'd like to build a snowman."

"A snowman?"

He gave her an impish grin.

"In the meadow."

"In the meadow?"

He nodded and began to sing softly.

"In the meadow, we can build a snowman."

She raised her brow. This obviously meant something to him, but she couldn't think of what it might mean.

He kissed her chin.

"And pretend that he is Parson Brown."

He kissed her cheek and reached behind himself for something.

"He'll say 'Are you married?' we'll say 'no, man.'"

James held a small velvet box between them and Olivia gasped in surprise.

"But you can do the job when you're in town."

The last line of the song came out more as a question. James opened the box to reveal a sapphire engagement ring. She looked up at James as she recalled the few times since they'd met that he mentioned that sapphires reminded him of her. One of the first discovered gems, he'd mentioned when she'd asked him in exasperation why he would say such a thing. She'd thought he was merely flirting with her. Now it was obvious he'd been considering this for some time, longer than they'd been on the run together.

"Oh, James. It's lovely."

She looked up at him and the love there in his eyes took her breath away.

"Will you honour me by becoming my wife, Olivia?"

Olivia smiled and touched his face gently.

"Yes."

James looked as if he'd just been knighted by the Queen herself. He kissed her then pulled the ring out of the box and slipped it on her finger. It was what might be considered understated, but Olivia knew the meaning of that as well. He'd always loved the way people underestimated her. He said it made it worth attending meetings just to see her give the good old boys a bollocking they never saw coming.

"I love you, James."

"I love you, Olivia. Always."

\-------

Tanner kicked the door closed behind him and walked into the kitchen to deposit his grocery sacks. He tried not to rush in putting things away. He'd promised himself he'd wait to check the phone.

As he'd suspected, between the fact that Silva was dead and their new relationship, neither Bond nor their former boss seemed to feel the need to contact him as often. They were still in the cold Tundra of Canada as far as Tanner knew. 

He'd been busy trying to sort out details for their safe return.

He heated some leftovers in the microwave then sat down and picked up the remote. To his relief it vibrated twice, indicating an earlier message. He waited to check it, finishing his dinner and channel surfing awhile. He knew if it had been an urgent need, he would have been contacted through different channels.

Bill rose, washed his dishes, dressed for bed, then returned to the darkened living room. Since Silva's death Tanner wasn't quite as paranoid about his contact with James and Olivia, but old habits died hard.

He pulled out the phone from the hidden compartment in the remote. There was a message from James.

"Hope you like monkey suits. I need a Best Man."

Bill read the message five time before laughing loudly. Bond certainly wasted no time. 

"Congratulations. I'm very comfortable in a tuxedo. And I am honored to be your Best Man."

He put the phone back and went to bed, smiling as he thought that this was one of his favorite Christmas' ever.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas to all. :)


End file.
